[Estinien approaches him cautiously, evidently still not entirely sure that Howl won't turn this into an opportunity to attack him again. Howl may feel some of that wariness trickle back through the ambiance, more controlled than his own broadcasts of emotion but there nonetheless. There surely isn't any joy in this, for Estinien. He's here because he believes that he has to be.

He takes the vial, and for a moment his thoughts are consumed by the moment they had all faced in that cavern. Bound on that ritual circle, with this poison being forced down their throats, as Achamite cultists cooed and stroked their hair like children. The revulsion he feels is much less quiet than his wariness, flashing through the emotional space with violence. He pulls away, putting the vial in one of his pouches as if he's been burned.

His throat feels full, like something is blocking him from breathing, like the sludge is inside of him again.]

I can take you away from this.

[It comes out rough and low, like he barely knows how to speak it.]

If you need someone to make the choice for you. I could take your shard, and see if it could yet be cleansed.